


Birds Of A Feather

by Hildigunnur



Category: Supernatural, White Collar
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Gift Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:43:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hildigunnur/pseuds/Hildigunnur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The definition of indulgence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birds Of A Feather

**Author's Note:**

> Written a few years ago as birthday fic for a friend. Most graciously beta'd by another friend.

He didn't look like the hustlers who normally populated the card clubs. The worn leather jacket and the steel-toed boots were the first clue but it was the peculiar combination of wariness and friendliness that told Neal that the guy was pretty new to New York.

Plus he was sure he would have noticed him around before. His skills with the cards alone should have made him ping Neal's radar, not to mention his incredible good looks. It wasn't often that Neal came across a guy who was like him, masculinely pretty. Not that Neal thought of himself as pretty per se, it simply was something he'd been told often enough that he had to take it as a fact.

It was the goofy sort of confidence that drew Neal the most to him. The way that he laid down his cards, Queens over Aces, with a boyish grin. The guy had been doing that for a long time, even longer than Neal himself had been in the business.

Following him outside into the cool air where the pavement glistened with rain water, Neal clear his throat as the guy was opening up his huge vintage Chevy, parked in an alley just a block away from the card club.

"Hey, you play well."

Taking his hand off the door handle on the driver seat's door, the guy turned around, surprise written all over his face.

"Okay..." The hesitation in his voice was punctuated by his raised eyebrow.

"You had them all fooled, you could have taken them for a whole lot more money."

The guy narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "You gonna rat me out or something?"

Neal shook his head and gave what he hoped with his most dazzling smile.

"I didn't need more than that. In my line of business, just enough is the best. It doesn't attract attention."

"Oh," Neal said. "Hustling not your main line then?"

A hollow laughter echoed in the alley way. "Hardly, it just pays the gas and keeps me from starving. And believe men, one needs the extra dollars here in the Big Apple. It's like this place runs on another economy than the rest of the country."

"You not from around here?"

"Can't say I'm from any place. Was born in Kansas though but I've been through each of the lower 48 at least three times and probably will go through them all three times more at least. Except Florida. Not even for the end of the world am I going there again."

There was a sudden itch under Neal's ankle monitor but he fought the urge to bend down. He didn't necessarily want to be traversing through all of the 48 states but it truly was a drag to be confined to the same couple of square miles.

"So do you have a name or are you like that horse from that song?"

"It's Dean."

Suited him well, not too formal but not too silly.

"I'm Neal, nice to meet you."

"Hey, Neal. So why did you follow me here?"

Yeah, cutting to the chase. Why did he follow Dean?

"I... my place isn't far off."

Dean's left eyebrow rose a little before his face opened in a warm grin.

"I was kind of wishing that was the reason though I thought it was likelier that you were pissed off about the card game."

Neal shrugged and smiled back.

...

The door hadn't even closed on Neal's apartment when Dean was pushing him against the wall. It was on an occasion like these when Neal was more than willing to hand over the reins. As much as he fancied himself as an alpha male, he liked it when he held by a pair of strong arms and he was swept up in a firm, open-mouthed kiss. There was also something to be said to feel prickling of stubble against his cheek. As Dean traced down his throat with his lips, Neal went straight for the fly on Dean's jeans, opening the buttons with his steady hands and smiling to himself when he realized that Dean had gone commando. He sure seemed like someone who did that on a regular basis.

Dean wasn't fully hard yet when Neal took him in his hand, stroking his dick, giving him the promise that he wasn't going to passively enjoy all the attention Dean was showering him with.

"You are so fucking pr…" Neal put a finger over Dean's lips before he could finish what he was about say.

"Save that for someone else," Neal said, mirth coloring his voice, as he sank down to his knees. A huff Dean gave promptly changed into a moan as Neal took him into his mouth. Giving head was one of Neal's most favorite skills; in a way he liked it better than his ability to imitate the brush strokes of the renaissance masters. The thrill to be able to bring a person so close to ecstasy was incredible; it made him feel so powerful. He knew what to do with his tongue, how to work his throat muscles to bring Dean right to the edge, make him beg incoherently. But he didn't allow him to come, not when he was desperate to get Dean's cock inside of him.

He let go off Dean, his mouth popping pornographically. Dean looked down at him, his eyes dark with lust.

"On the bed right now," he growled. Neal rose up but before he could straighten properly, Dean had grabbed him and pushed him back so hard that he bounced a bit on the mattress. Tearing at his own clothes, Dean practically threw himself on the top of Neal.

There was a brief moment when Dean was fighting with the buttons on Neal's waist-coat where he feared that Dean would give up. The litany of curses falling from Dean's lips seemed to suggest that. But the buttons met their match when Dean ended up ripping them off without a ceremony. Briefly, Neal contemplated to get Mozzie to fasten them back on but the grief he would catch from him, probably wasn't worth it.

When they were both finally naked, Neal didn't waste time. He wanted Dean to get to fucking him as fast as possible so with only the barest minimal of preparation, he was maneuvering Dean and lining him up.

"Now," Neal breathed as Dean hovered over him, a charming but frustrating sort of uncertainty in his eyes.

Dean fucked just like Neal had imagined and hoped he would. With powerful snaps of his hips, Dean drove himself deep and if Neal wanted to be all clichéd, he swore he could literally see constellations each time Dean buried himself to the hilt.

Reaching for his own dick, Neal was soon close to coming and judging by Dean's erratic thrusting; he was on the brink as well.

It proved to be true as they came within seconds of each other, Dean pushing his face into the pillow beside Neal's head. It was one of those fantastical screws that Neal knew he wouldn't forget though he probably wouldn't be bragging about it.

"You know," Dean said panting as he rolled off Neal, "I did cheat. At the card game, I mean."

"And you think I care?" Neal said. "I did as well."

-Fin


End file.
